


The Seasons of the Deer and Lion

by mechanistmacha (SaturnJay), SaturnJay



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Canonical Character Death, Consensual Underage Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:02:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23728753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaturnJay/pseuds/mechanistmacha, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaturnJay/pseuds/SaturnJay
Summary: A year ago, Dimitri lost everything. His father, his stepmother, and his closest guardian. His closest friend hates him, and the others are too busy to help. Scrambling for the will to live, he settles upon revenge, until the unwilling passenger of a smuggling vessel teaches him that life is worth living no matter what.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 72





	1. The Boy With the Braid

**Author's Note:**

> My partner and I wrote this, so if there is some awkward POV switching, then I missed it in editing, my apologies!

Rodrigue did everything he could to be the father that Dimitri deserved and required. He ensured the young man’s care, his basic needs were met, and he didn’t just leave it at that. Rodrigue took the young prince into his own home, sheltered by his own soldiers in his territory. Honestly, anything to get him away from the uncle Dimitri so despised. He tried to give him all the love and affection a growing boy could need. But he was grieving the loss of his own son after all, who died in glorious service to the late King and Dimitri himself. He could only give so much. Still, doting on Dimitri was almost as difficult as doting on his own surviving Felix. Neither of them accepted it. Oh, Dimitri smiled at him. But there was nothing behind those cold blue eyes but rotten  _ death. _

And it wasn’t like Rodrigue could expect any help from Dimitri’s only surviving family.

Rufus was the elder son, but Lambert had taken his throne. Lambert had the Crest of Blaiddyd, after all. And Rodrigue had devoted his life to his King and friend, but he couldn’t help but despise Lambert’s final words, forcing such a burden onto his young son’s shoulders.

_ Avenge us. _

That wasn’t something anyone should say to a fourteen-year-old, Rodrigue thought to himself as he watched Dimitri in the training grounds below, breaking lance after lance over the backs of sparring partners and training dummies alike. Felix refused to train with him anymore; not because he wasn’t a challenge, quite the opposite. He just… hated him. Hated looking at Dimitri. He never said it, but Rodrigue suspected that Felix blamed the prince for the death of his brother.

None of this was really fair.

He took Dimitri into port the next day. Maybe he could distract him with some travel? But he didn’t let his hopes get too high. It had only been a year, after all. The wounds of loss were deeply entrenched, still fresh. At least he had the nice young Duscur man to look out for him.   
“I’ll be speaking to the Dockmaster,” he told them both. “You may do as you wish about town.” He smiled. Dimitri didn’t smile back. Dedue just nodded. Rodrigue let his own smile drop. “The guards will accompany you, so…”

_ So you’ll be safe. _ But he didn’t want to say that. He didn’t even honestly want to let Dimitri out of his sight. But confinement was no way to live. Young men needed freedom. And the Knights of House Fraldarius were the best trained in all of the Kingdom (except perhaps those of Gautier, who defended the borders from Sreng).

As Rodrigue departed, Dedue turned to Dimitri, giving him a silent look, prepared for his orders, prepared to go wherever he desired. It was all he’d done since Dimitri rescued him from the massacre that was Duscur, and that didn’t promise to change anytime soon.

Dimitri, wearing his weight in fur, wandered to the edges of the dock. He’d had an argument that morning with Felix, and there was little else on his mind at the moment. If it could even be called an argument--it was more like he was screamed at for some time before Felix was hoarse and sick of looking at his face.

They used to come to Fraldarius in the summer, at its most temperate. The Fraldarius estate was full of the laughter of children-- Felix, himself, Ingrid, Sylvain--and Glenn, herding them all. 

Now the halls were too quiet. Sylvain, with his older brother disgraced, was now being trained to become the next Margrave of Gautier territory. He had little time for playing.

Dimitri let his eyes, empty and blue as the sky, cast over the sea, his lips lacking the semblance of any smile.

It was only in spotting someone shifting in and out of one of the bay houses, carrying far too many weapons for a sleepy sea town, that he frowned fully.

"Dedue," he said quietly. "Something is wrong in that house."

Dedue looked up. He didn't know enough about Fódlan yet to know if there was any truth to his words, but it hardly mattered. He'd follow him anywhere, obey his every order. He just nodded once, still lacking a good grasp of the language, still struggling with Dimitri's title.

The men and women of the Fraldarius Estate took their task to protect the prince quite seriously. One woman, her face heavy with scars, stepped forward. "Your Highness?" she asked, questioning his intense gaze.

He turned to her, tipping his face up, so earnest and sweet, despite its haunts. "Something's wrong. It might be nothing. But... I saw a man with too many weapons descend the steps." People didn’t just carry sackfuls of weapons like that. Not normally. It was something Dimitri was hyper-sensitive to. He had noticed it in Duscur, then. In the celebrations of welcoming the King for his visit, Dimitri had noticed every man and woman he saw, near armed to the teeth. He hadn't considered why until afterward.

He feared another massacre.

The woman was one of the only ones of the Fraldarius household who was willing to meet Dimitri in combat training anymore. Katya was the eldest daughter of the Galatea Household, but, lacking any Crest, she was free to join her closest friend in his household. But that was before he, Glenn, died, of course. Now, she was the strongest in the entire company, and not afraid to punish Dimitri with blows. In that way, she was like a friend to him.

She looked up, narrowing her eyes at the man who carried the arms to and fro.

"You're right. But if it's something this suspicious, we should get the Duke." She signaled to another, who ran to fetch Rodrigue, then drew her sword. "We must wait to proceed, Your Highness."

Dimitri, naturally, drew his sword, too, only to be caught by Dedue's hand. "Your Highness, it is dangerous," he said.

The true meaning of his word, Dimitri could parse and the others could not. What others heard was ‘dangerous for  _ you.’  _ What Dedue meant of course was ‘dangerous for  _ them.’ _

Still, he obeyed, sheathing his sword to fall back behind his kingsguard.

Katya glanced at the man from Duscur. She trusted him mostly. He was so sincere, it was hard to believe that he might mean Dimitri harm, but she couldn't help but harbor the leftover resentment of his people from the regicide only a year ago. Still, she doubted that if he was a threat, he was a more immediate one than these men.

Rodrigue was quick to arrive, loath to leave Dimitri to fend for himself in any situation.

"Mitya," he said, soft, when they were only in earshot of one another, "Mitya, what did you see?"

Dimitri tugged the fur closer around him and pointed to the house. "I saw a great deal of arms being stockaded in that house. I do not believe that they noticed me." Why would they? He was just a scrawny kid, and did not stand under the banner of House Blaiddyd. Not yet. Just another brat (though finely dressed).

He pulled the fur cloak closer around him, and Rodrigue carefully shepherded him close. "I had heard rumors of a smuggler's ring," Rodrigue said softly. "Who knew we’d be able to investigate so soon? Well done, Your Highness." His thumb smoothed across his brow. Rodrigue had been so close to Lambert; just once, just once he hadn't been at his side, fearful what the land of Duscur would do to a cold he had contracted.

Now he carried that shame, and carried the dedication and affection that Lambert could no longer bear for his son.

"Fall in. Katya. Go first and use your charm. See that we are not mistaken."

Katya would have laughed in any other situation. Only Rodrigue would think her  _ charming, _ given that she had worked Glenn over until he was begging her hand in marriage. But those happy days were over.

She saluted him, unable to help casting a glance at the poor prince, shepherded under Duke Fraldarius' cloak. Fifteen was too young to lose everything... and he'd been fourteen then.

She was still garbed as a Knight, but she took off her helmet, letting her golden hair free as she approached the bayhouse from a different angle, every inch the innocent lost woman. "Excuse me!" she cried, smiling with all her winsomeness.

Dimitri's face peeked out from Rodrigue's protection and he watched her work, anxious and--jealous, perhaps, as he licked his winter-dry lips.

"Yeah, lady? Docks are that way. Walk ‘til you hit water."

Another man inside snickered. They were bunched up on the other side of the door, but only the top half was cracked open. Warding off the winter of Faerghus was about as productive as building a wall around the sea.

Katya smiled sweetly. She hoped they were up to no good because she'd love to kick their asses. "Actually, no. I was looking for the dockmaster. Surely merchants like yourselves know the way?"

"There are signs. They've got a big, pretty picture of a boat. You don't even need to read or nothin'."

Now Dimitri was getting riled, and Rodrigue could feel him squirm under his cloak. He nodded to two more of the kingsguard. "Fall in behind her. Claim inspection," he murmured.

They obeyed. Technically, they could just go in under the Fraldarius banner, but Rodrigue wanted to be clandestine about it. They didn’t need to invite more possible trouble by marching around and being obvious. He saw one of them shift in sudden fear as one of her fellows mentioned inspection. They were definitely hiding something.

Dimitri strained, and Rodrigue latched his hands harder around the boy's shoulder. He wouldn't lose Lambert's son, too. "Stay with Dedue," he murmured, passing him into the hands of the boy from Duscur, ensured that he would keep him heeled.

Dedue would never manhandle the boy who saved his life, but he did clamp down tightly, trying to encourage him to stay put. He didn't want to lose him either.

Rodrigue approached slowly, trying to listen in on the conversation, when the half-door slammed shut--and a spear shot out of the little window, jabbing close enough to get Katya's cheek.

Katya's sweet smile abruptly changed as the blade passed her. It might have caught more of her face had she not been so quick. Her sword was out in mere moments, and she flew forward like a dangerous wind, catching one man right in the gut with her arm, stunning another with the hilt of her blade. She'd not kill them yet. Not until she knew the extent of their crimes.

The door was pulled off of the hinges, and shouts began. 

"Halt! Open in the name of House Fraldarius!" one soldier bellowed, knocking the felled door aside. A bit too late for such bold words, but the Fraldarius soldiers valued such dedication and devotion. They were, after all, in service to the Shield of Faerghus, and Faerghus' young future king shivered only yards away.

_ "Detain! _ Do not kill unless attacked!" Rodrigue ordered, bringing up the rear.

Katya was unmatched. And against mere smugglers (as she suspected they were) this was not much of a battle. She smashed the elbow of her metal armor into a man's nose, grinning as she stepped over him, repeating Rodrigue's orders to the rest. "You heard the Duke! Detain, do not kill!"

Unfortunately, it seemed the men were armed to the teeth, and not afraid of killing--or being killed. As soon as Katya realized that they were aiming to do away with them, her ferocity redoubled. She'd let no harm come to Dimitri. Never. She listened to a man's scream as she pushed her sword through his eye, and ignored the splash of blood that was hot against her arm and back. The others, too, fought to protect the Duke, but more so because of the precious prince he sheltered.

As Dimitri had suspected, there were stockpiles of swords, and foreign artilleries that they didn't even recognize, perhaps from Dagda. Most of it was stolen for certain, or at the very least, unregistered. They were clearly part of a larger scheme than merely stockpiling some stolen weapons. This was dark.

Now that Dedue had Dimitri, Rodrigue joined his soldiers, not content to just order them from a distance, even with the Prince close. Dedue clutched Dimitri, took note as a strange light flashed across his eyes at the sight of scarlet spilling blood. He turned the prince into his chest, not allowing him to look any longer. It wasn't healthy. Not for him.

No less than ten men were bunched inside, and those who were not dispatched cowered, their hands lifted over their heads. Only three survived the onslaught, only three were unwilling to die for whatever scheme was set up here. Katya kept her sword pointed at them as a warning. They'd be questioned, of course, and severely punished for fighting Fraldarius soldiers--and even worse, putting the young prince in danger. She was satisfied with that.

"Sweep the lower floors," she repeated after the Duke. "They may have more contraband."

Rodrigue, confident the men were contained, sheathed his sword, taking stock. Opium, he was fairly certain, from Sreng--rich tobacco from Almyra. And, of course, enough munitions and weaponry to arm a militia. His stomach churned. Were they planning on taking on the crown while Dimitri was vulnerable, alone?

"Sir," one of his knights approached, emerging from the cellars, pale-mouthed. "We've found something."

With a face like that, Rodrigue could only assume it was something truly awful. Some sort of bioweapon, then? Poison enough for the water supply of an entire territory? That had come up recently, a few weeks ago. He shot a look at Dimitri and motioned for the man to keep his voice down.

"Show me," he commanded, trying not to let worry enter his tone. Dimitri would pick up on it immediately.

In the cellars, there were many awful things that could be used to hurt the people of Faerghus, but none so bad as the contents of a sack mashed between some rotten turnips. They had seen it wriggle and had gone immediately to cut out whoever was inside, fearing the worst.

They were right to fear. As soon as the boy spilled out from the sack, Rodrigue knew he might not live. He thought for a moment he was dead already. Dressed in an oversized tunic, fingers, toes, and mouth blue from the cold of the region, blood crusting under his hair at the back of his neck (as well as several other gruesome injuries covering his chest and limbs), was a boy with copper skin and dark curls.

There was only one identifying feature; a small braid that was matted with filth and half undone, stuck to his hollow cheek.

A boy from Almyra.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry...

Hello everyone,

Unfortunately, this fic has been canceled, due to the absent interest of the rp partner I had to continue it. I'm sorry to those who hoped it would go on, however, this fic in particular will be sort of restyled and revamped under a different author on A03 with my own ideas and a few new rp partners I have befriended (with all the same ships you know and love)! I've not yet made the new profile yet, so if you wish to follow the newer version of this fic, I'll have it posted on my twitter @Mechanist_Macha so be on the lookout for that as well!

Thank you so much for the comments and the kudos, I appreciate you all so much and I hope you keep reading! <3333

**Author's Note:**

> Later on, there will be more explicit content. The explicit content is consensual underage sex between minors (Dimitri 16, Claude 17). There are some allusions to the physical and sexual abuse of a minor, but nothing explicit is mentioned.


End file.
